


What It is to Love Her

by iihappydaysii, MistressPandora



Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Infidelity, Scottish coitus interruptus, Threats, getting caught, implied polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28856409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/pseuds/iihappydaysii, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressPandora/pseuds/MistressPandora
Summary: John and Claire have been keeping a secret from Jamie.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser, Claire Beauchamp/Lord John Grey
Comments: 25
Kudos: 49





	What It is to Love Her

Lord John Grey had no idea what he was doing here, hiding and waiting in this dark alley, and yet he had no plans on leaving. He was more than familiar with clandestine relationships, but this had to be the strangest of them all. It was certainly the most confusing. 

Before he could manage another thought, footsteps sounded on the paving stones. He knew who was coming, and a thrill ran down his spine at the thought of the pleasures he’d soon be giving in to.

Claire Fraser rounded the corner, or rather, her silhouette did. He recognized her at once, the hurried cadence of her steps, her uncovered hair, bulky outline of her medical box held in one hand. She came into the dim pool of light from the lamp at the mouth of the alley, her shapely lips spread in a smile. "I said it was serious," she whispered into the otherwise empty passage. "Jamie won't expect me until tomorrow." She bypassed all the usual pleasantries as was her custom, and kissed Grey, her tongue a sudden and surprisingly welcome intrusion in his mouth.

He kissed her back with equal force, already feeling himself giving into this thing he didn’t understand. He’d also found women beautiful, and he’d had sex with a number of them, but he’d never really sought them out, never desired them like he did men. He didn’t think he had, at least. But it didn’t matter now. With Claire here so close to him, nothing mattered but the feel of her body against his, her body responding to his touch. “We should get out of here, my dear,” John said against Claire’s mouth. “Before we’re seen. Besides, I’d like to get you naked and into a bed.” 

Grey couldn't see her answering grin but he could feel it. "Hmm, I like the sound of that." Claire pulled back—a tragedy—and nodded down the corridor. "Lead the way, _My Lord_." Her use of his title was thoroughly ironic, hissed in her flirtatious tone. When he wasn't looking, she grabbed a handful of his arse through the skirts of his coat and squeezed hard.

He spun around and grabbed her hand. He smirked. “If you think I’ll allow you to get away with such insolent behavior, you are sorely mistaken.” A part of Grey wanted to take her right now. Press her up against the wet bricks, push up her skirt, and just give in. But the other part wanted this to last as long as possible. 

“You can return the favor if you like. Although this is a lot of skirt to get through.” They darted through the alleys and narrow backstreets, leaping over standing puddles from the afternoon rain. Claire’s heel slipped on a loose cobblestone and Grey caught her around the middle. She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing out loud. 

When he arrived at the front door, Grey hurried to open it, hand shaking. He pushed it open and then swept Claire into his arms, carrying her into the house. He needed her so badly he felt he couldn’t even waste the time it would take to let her walk herself, however impractical.

Claire deftly deposited her case on a table in the hall as they went past it. She threw one arm around his neck and plucked the tricorn from his head. Balancing it on her own head at a wild angle, she went after his neckcloth, yanking the knot out with one hand and pulling it free. “God, I can’t wait to get my mouth on you.” She plucked at what waistcoat buttons she could reach. Carrying her might save some time after all.

He was a disheveled mess by the time he made it to the bedroom, and he couldn’t wait to be taken apart even more. Grey tossed Claire onto the bed, then he pounced on top of her, kissing her deeply again. It was wrong, what they were doing. Dishonorable and terrible and unforgivable. He could barely believe he was doing it. Hurting one of the people he cared for most in the world, and yet he could not bring himself to stop. Not all the times he’d tried before and not now. He couldn’t stop himself from unlacing Claire’s dress and pulling it down until her breasts were bare before him. “Beautiful,” Grey breathed, then dipped down to capture one of her nipples between his lips. 

Claire gasped and arched her back under him. “God yes.” She tore at his coat, making a high-pitched noise of frustration until he straightened an arm so she could shove the garment off his shoulders. “Sometimes I miss zippers,” she muttered, one of those bizarre, quirky things Claire sometimes said that didn’t make sense. Panting and writhing against him, she sank her fingers into Grey’s hair, fingernails scraping along his scalp and pulling until he was obliged to release her nipple. “Naked. Now. And then I want a taste.” Her other hand palmed his cockstand through his breeches to dispel any confusion about what precisely she wanted in her mouth.

Grey tore off his clothes in a feral manner. If Tom had still been in his employ, he’d have been absolutely livid at the destruction. His new valet complained far less, however, so if there were torn seams or loose buttons, they would be mended.

The air was cool on Grey’s bare skin, and he wasted no time sinking his fingers into Claire’s hair and guiding her mouth to the tip of his hard, leaking prick. God, he couldn’t wait to feel those perfect soft lips around him, warm and tight. 

She teased him, the minx. Claire wound her arms around him and kneaded the flesh of his buttocks. Then she opened her mouth and her pink tongue darted out to lick the moisture from the head of his prick. She ducked aside and mouthed at the sensitive skin between his prick and his hip, his shaft sliding against her flower petal smooth cheek. The outside of it, not the wet inside like he wanted. Claire let him pull her hair for a vexing minute, then changed course again and took him into her mouth. It was almost obscene that she could swallow him to the root straight away, but that's precisely what she did. She closed her lips tight around him, worked her tongue against him, and let out the most delectable moan that he felt to his core. 

That felt too good and he wanted this to last. He coaxed her off him, then lifted her face back up to him, kissing her. He tasted the salty flavor of himself on her lips, which only excited him more. He’d question all this afterwards as he always did. Question what he was thinking. What he was doing. How any of this was happening and what it meant. For now though, Grey just wanted her naked, to see all her lines and soft curves and take them in inch and by inch. He backed away from her just enough and said, “Take your clothes off, Claire. I want to see you.” 

Claire's bodice was still out of place, her breasts spilling from the top of her stays. Some women might have been shy to be watched like this, or pretended to be. But not Claire. She stood tall and confident and regal as a queen, letting that be at beautiful odds with the half-ravished state of her attire. She was deliberate about undressing, taking her time with each garment. Every lace she pulled slowly, tugging her shift out of her skirts and tossing it aside so she stood naked from the waist up. Her hands lingered on her own body, cupping her breasts and letting them go so they bounced. And all the while her eyes raked Grey from top to bottom, licking her lips like a hungry cat, and sending the most bewildering thrill through him. At long last, her skirts fell away and Claire propped one foot on a chair to untie and roll her stockings down her thigh and off. 

Grey stroked himself, impatience growing as he watched her finish disrobing. She had been the first woman he’d ever truly seen naked, the only woman he’d taken the time to enjoy and explore until it seemed he knew her body as well as he did his own. Unable to wait any longer, Grey strode over to her and pulled her to him. He needed to feel her bare warmth against his own. Needed it now. Desperately. He kissed her mouth. Her neck. The delicate line of her collarbone. Oh, the effort it took not to leave bruises! 

Mewling and gasping, her breath tickled Grey's neck, sent a shiver over him. Claire took one of his hands and placed it between her legs so he could slip his fingers into the warm wetness there. Her hand was soft and delightfully small as it closed around his prick. "Take me for a ride," she moaned into his ear.

“Christ,” he growled. Then slipped his hand away so he could lift her into his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist. He backed her against the wall for support, then pressed up inside her. “You feel _perfect.”_ Grey spoke, lips brushing hers but not kissing, as he watched her watching him. 

Claire held onto his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his flesh. Her legs tightened around him, shifting the angle of her hips. " _Fuck_ , John, just like that," she cried, and for a moment she rolled her eyes heavenward. "You won't break me." Claire seized Grey's lower lip between her teeth, nibbling and sucking.

Grey lost himself to the moment with her. Forgetting everything but the sensations their bodies were creating through the connection they had forged. Their heavy breaths and grunts and moans were the only sounds in the room, and Grey disappeared into it all. Nothing existed outside of the two of them, and nothing needed to. 

" _John_." Claire said his name over and over, a breathy whine. Clinging to him, her body going tight, legs trembling against him. 

The door slammed open not six feet from their place against the wall, and a thoroughly enraged Jamie Fraser stomped into the room. He froze, eyes wide with shock as if he couldn't puzzle out exactly what he was seeing.

"Shit, Jamie!" Claire shrieked in alarm, shuddering in John’s arms as her orgasm overtook her.

Grey came too, goddammit, the feeling of Claire’s pleasure overwhelming him even now. “Shit,” he echoed Claire’s curse. Thoughts spinning, he tried to set her down but he stumbled while doing it. Grey scrambled for the bed linens to try to provide them both a modicum of privacy. 

Jamie crossed the room to intercept him, shoving him against another wall, pinning him with his forearm across his throat. He wasn't quite in position to strangle him, but the threat was clear. "What in the devil do ye think ye're doing with my wife, John Grey?" 

"Jamie, stop!" Claire shouted and reached for Jamie's arm as if she could pry it off of Grey.

Jamie shrugged her off and shot her a heated glare. "If ye'd like me to keep my vow no' to raise a hand to ye again, I suggest ye shut yer unfaithful mouth." He turned his attention back to Grey. "Talk."

“I… I don’t know what you want me to say. I won’t have anything to say to excuse this other than she is—was—my wife and I… I love her.” Grey shook his head as he best he could with the pressure on his neck. He did not think he’d ever said that before. “I only ask that whatever anger you feel, you direct it towards me and leave her out of it.” He wasn’t certain this wouldn’t lead Jamie to kill him on the spot, but he would die before letting Jamie turn his rage on Claire.

“No!” Claire interjected, her voice breaking in a sob. “ _I_ initiated it, Jamie, please. Don’t—” 

“Wait yer turn, Claire,” Jamie snapped. “I’ll deal wi’ ye directly.” Turning his attention back on Grey, the skirt of his coat brushed Grey’s prick. “In what lifetime did ye think I would accept this? And yer only explanation for _fucking my wife_ is that ye _love_ her? Do ye even ken what love is?”

“I’m not asking you to accept it,” Grey said. He still cared deeply for Jamie. Of course, he’d never stopped. Claire hadn’t either. They both had room in their hearts for two. “You told me long ago that a man like me couldn’t love, and that was among one of the kinder things you’ve said about me. I’m not sure when along the years you decided I owe you anything, sir, but I do not.” He’d given up any hope of leaving his room alive, so he just lifted his finger and pointed it at Jamie’s chest. Again, as best he could under the circumstances. “You ask if I know what I love is? And so I’ll say this: if you know what it is to love Claire, then you’ll know what it is to risk everything to be with her.”

“Oh, John,” Claire gasped, but said nothing else.

Jamie ground his teeth, the muscles of his jaw flexing and tensing. "Aye, I ken what it is to love her. It's joy and it's pain, and it's the burning need that consumes ye like fire until ye can touch her again, till ye can see her again." He was so close now that his leather coat had warmed against Grey's bare skin. "And do ye ken what it is to love _you_ , John?"

At some point, Claire had wrapped a sheet around her body and she gaped at Jamie.

He barreled on, finally dropping his arm away from Grey’s throat. "It's frustration and it’s madness. And it's confusing and frightening, and it's wanting for years and having no earthly idea how to tell ye or what to say. It's having the one terrible idea to tell ye fail utterly because I said it wrong. It's kissing ye twice and praying ye'd understand. And _then_ , it's to lose ye to my own wife. And her to you." Jamie's face fell into an expression of total defeat, and then he was backing away from Grey and snatching his arm away from Claire when she reached for him, her pretty face red and streaked with tears.

Grey could not believe the words coming out of Jamie’s mouth. Perhaps he was actually dying and this was his mind’s attempt to suffer less, but no… no this was real and he had to do something about it. “You didn’t lose her,” Grey said. “She never stopped loving you. Not for a moment. And neither did I.” 

Jamie’s ruddy brows furrowed and he looked from John to Claire and back again. Disbelief, confusion, cautious hope, all warred for dominance on his face. His right hand started to shake, perhaps his violent rage fizzling out with nowhere left to go. 

Claire approached Jamie slowly, holding the sheet over her breasts with one hand, slipping the other over Jamie's trembling right. "Jamie," she said softly. "What John says is true. I love you." Her voice broke again. "And I never stopped. If I had realized that you felt this way about John…" She trailed off. "I'm sorry, Jamie. Please don't leave it like this."

Jamie clasped her hand, then brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Nay, Sassenach. I'm sorry. I should have made ye feel ye could tell me, and I understand why ye didna. I go so mad where the two of ye are concerned, and I say and do unspeakable things. I would no' have told me either." He met John's eyes then, and Grey could see Jamie start—and immediately abandon—a handful of thoughts. Finally, he huffed through his nose and lifted his shoulders in a helpless shrug. "It never occurred to me that I could have just told ye that I loved you, back at Helwater."

John let a soft breath of disbelief. He’d thought he was going to be killed, but instead he was being given his most impossible dream. “We can’t change the past, but we can do things differently now.” His lips twitched into a small smile as he took Claire’s hand then reached out for Jamie’s. “The three of us.” 

**Author's Note:**

> **Cast**  
>  Claire Fraser - MistressPandora  
> Lord John Grey - iihapppydaysii  
> Jamie Fraser - MistressPandora  
> 


End file.
